Miss Villain and the Protagonist

The air in the Silverfang ceremonial hall was so thick with anticipation it almost choked Kaelen. Golden chandeliers swayed above the vaulted ceiling, their flames casting dancing shadows across the endless rows of gathered nobles and wolf lords. Red and silver banners, colors of the Moonfang Pack, draped the walls, proud, elegant, eternal.

This was supposed to be his moment. The moment when he, Kaelen, heir to the greatest werewolf dynasty, would stand beside Celera, his fated mate, and bind their souls before the eyes of the Moon Goddess and their people.

But the bride’s side of the altar was empty.

Kaelen stood rigid in his black ceremonial coat, silver embroidery gleaming against his tall, broad frame. His hands clenched into fists inside his sleeves, and his wolf howled restlessly in his chest.

Where is she?

The whispers began.

“She’s late…”

“Does she even intend to come?”

“A disgrace… the heir can’t even keep his mate in line. An irresponsible heir.”

The murmurs spread like wildfire through the hall, searing Kaelen’s ears. His jaw tightened. His eyes flicked toward the grand throne at the head of the hall, where his grandfather, Grand Alpha Darius, sat, cloaked in authority and menace. The old man’s golden eyes glowed faintly, his expression carved from stone.

Every second Celera didn’t appear was another blade pressed against Kaelen’s throat.

He reached out telepathically, his voice cutting across the bond they shared. Celera? Where are you?

Silence.

He tried again, harder, pouring desperation into the link. Answer me, Celera. Please.

Nothing.

Panic slithered under his skin. He pulled his phone from his pocket, ignoring the gasps from nobles who thought the act beneath an heir. He dialed once. Twice. Again. Straight to voicemail.

The priest at the altar cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should...”

“She’s coming, Kaelen cut sharply, his voice loud enough to silence the whispers. He shoved his phone back into his coat. She will come.”

But minutes stretched into an eternity. No footsteps, no rustle of a gown, no hopeful gasp from the guests. Only silence and judgment.

At last, the priest closed the sacred book with a dull thud. The sound was final.

The audience shifted uncomfortably. Guests began to rise, dresses rustling, chairs scraping against marble. Laughter, low and cruel, rippled in the far corner where rival alphas sat.

Kaelen’s chest burned. His wolf snarled, She wouldn’t abandon us. Not like this. Something’s wrong.

Then his grandfather’s voice cut into his head like a blade. "You’ve embarrassed me again."

Kaelen’s head snapped toward him. Darius’s golden eyes burned with fury. "You are supposed to lead this pack. Instead, you stand alone at an empty altar. Do you know what this means? You’ve been disgraced. Shamed. Twice, you’ve failed me. Twice, Kaelen."

Kaelen’s fists trembled." This isn’t my fault. She’s my mate. She should be here. Something happened"

Darius’s mental snarl silenced him. "Excuses. Always excuses. The Moonfang heir cannot even keep his bride. Do you think the other packs will respect you now? You’ve made us weak. Pitiful."

His mother, Lady Araya, rose from her seat, her dark eyes flashing. “Father, enough, she said aloud, her voice steady though her hands gripped the folds of her gown tightly. Kaelen is not to blame. Celera...she must have a reason.”

Darius’s glare turned on her, sharp as claws. “Silence, Araya. You’ve coddled him too long. Look what it has bred—failure, humiliation.”

Kaelen’s wolf bristled at the insult, but he forced his voice calm. “I said this isn’t my fault. If Celera isn’t here, then something has happened. She wouldn’t do this. Not to me. Not to us.”

The laughter from the rival alphas grew louder, deliberate.

“Or maybe she came to her senses, one sneered aloud. Who would want a mate who can’t even command his bride?”

Kaelen’s vision blurred red. His wolf strained to rip free, to silence them with fang and claw. Only his mother’s gentle hand on his arm grounded him.

“Kaelen, she whispered softly, don’t lose yourself here. Not before them.”

The humiliation burned hotter than fire. His chest heaved. The judgment, the whispers, the smirks...he couldn’t stand it another second.

Kaelen tore away from the altar. Gasps followed as he stormed down the aisle, the grand doors slamming open with a thunderous crack.

“Kaelen!” his mother called.

He didn’t look back.

The night air hit him, cool and sharp. He drew in deep breaths, but it wasn’t enough. Rage and panic twisted inside him. He fumbled for his phone again, scrolling through his missed calls, unanswered messages. Nothing. Not a word.

“Damn it, Celera! he growled under his breath. Where are you?”

His wolf snarled: Find her.

“Yes, Kaelen muttered aloud. His boots struck hard against the stone floor as he changed direction. I’ll find her. I’ll drag her back if I have to. She owes me answers.”

He stormed across the courtyard, ignoring the guards who bowed nervously as he passed. His mind was a storm of rage and fear, the bond between him and Celera eerily silent, as if severed.

Each step toward the guest wing of the estate tightened the knot in his gut.

She had to be there. She had to.

Kaelen’s hand pressed against the heavy oak door of Celera’s chamber. For a moment, he hesitated, his wolf clawing in agitation. His heart pounded like a war drum.

What if she’s gone? What if she left you willingly?

He shook the thought away violently. No. Not Celera. Not his mate.

He shoved the door open.

The room was dark, shadows swallowing the elegant furniture. The faint scent of roses and lavender, hers, still lingered in the air. But the bed was empty, untouched.

Kaelen’s chest constricted. He stepped inside, scanning every corner. Her gown was still draped over the chair. Her shoes were by the bed. But Celera herself… nowhere.

And then,

His eyes locked on the window. The curtains flapped gently in the night breeze. The latch was broken, hanging uselessly.

Kaelen’s blood ran cold.

“Celera?” His voice cracked, echoing in the silence.

No answer.

He strode forward, gripping the window frame. Below, faint marks scratched into the stone as though someone had climbed, or been dragged down.

His wolf snarled in his mind. She didn’t leave. She was taken.

Kaelen’s breath quickened. The humiliation of the wedding fell away, replaced by a chilling realization. Someone had dared to come into his territory, on his wedding day, and steal his mate from under his nose.

A growl ripped from his throat, low and lethal.

The door behind him creaked open.

“Kaelen?” It was his mother’s voice.

But Kaelen didn’t turn. His eyes were locked on the broken latch, his fists trembling.

“They took her,” he whispered, his voice sharp, final, dangerous.

His mother gasped. “What? Who?”

Kaelen’s wolf surged to the surface, his golden eyes blazing in the dark room.

“I’ll find them, he vowed, each word dripping with fury. And when I do, I’ll tear this world apart if I have to.”

The wind howled through the broken window, carrying with it a faint, unfamiliar scent. A warning.

Kaelen inhaled deeply, and his expression twisted. It wasn’t just any scent. It was one he recognized.

One that should never have been here.

The rival pack.

His heart slammed against his ribs. His wolf roared.

“They’ve started a war.”